


If you Love Someone

by Chasespace



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smoking, Weddings, badly written humour, drinking and stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-01 20:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16291400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chasespace/pseuds/Chasespace
Summary: In which two ex-lovers, Jeonghan and Seungcheol – who are very much still in love – cross paths once again for a mutual friend’s wedding.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first SVT fic ^^ Hope you enjoy the first chapter! English isn't my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes :)

**_Myeong-dong, Seoul_ **

Seungcheol flipped through the stack of letters in his hands; all unsurprisingly addressed to Jeonghan. Scholarships and internship offers from Harvard, Stanford, NASA Research, Cambridge, Tsinghua, Yale… the list went on.

“Hannie,” he called, making his way into the living room. Jeonghan was lying across the sofa with his phone looming over his head, slender fingers frantically tapping away at the screen. “Hannie, you got mail.”

“Cool,” he replied monotonously. “Put ‘em with the others.”

Seungcheol cocked his brow. “Not even gonna’ look at them?” The younger hummed half-heartedly. “I mean… it’s NASA. Sounds like a pretty big deal.”

“You know what’s a big deal?” Jeonghan switched off his phone, turning his head towards Seungcheol with a stony expression. “The fact you’ve been home for three whole minutes and still haven’t kissed me hello.”

Seungcheol scoffed, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Right, my mistake.”

In the six months since Jeonghan dropped out of University, the two had been living in Seungcheol’s shabby little apartment on the edge of Myeong-dong shopping district. As much as Jeonghan insisted that their shitty living situation didn’t bother him, Seungcheol was determined to find a bigger place. He worked a twelve hour shift everyday in the hopes that, someday, he might be able to afford an apartment big enough for the two of them. Somewhere where they could start their lives together in comfort.

Seungcheol walked over as Jeonghan playfully reached his grabby hands towards him. He chuckled fondly before kneeling beside the sofa, placing a tender kiss to Jeonghan’s perfect lips. Jeonghan laced his hands around the back of Seungcheol’s neck, pulling him closer. _So warm._

Seungcheol continued to pepper kisses over Jeonghan’s pretty jawline, snickering as the younger’s fingertips began to fiddle with his hair. “How was work today?” Jeonghan asked.

“Tiring,” he mumbled, nuzzling the crook of his neck. “How was job hunting?”

Jeonghan hummed softly. “Total bullshit. But what else is new?”

Seungcheol resisted the urge to mutter _‘Well, that’s what happens when you drop out of Uni, babe,’,_ but rather wisely decided against it. “You’ll get there eventually.”

“’Course I will,” Jeonghan said, with a cocky half-smile and a perfectly arched brow. “According to my references, I’m a beautiful fucking genius.”

Seungcheol snickered, pressing a kiss of adoration against his boyfriend’s forehead. “Yup. _My_ beautiful fucking genius.”

* * *

_‘You have three new messages._

_‘Message 1: “Hello, this is Christopher Martin from the The National Aeronautics and Space Administration. I’m calling to remind Mr. Yoon that the scholarship offer is still very much on the table--”’_

_'Message deleted.’_

_‘Message 2: “Hi there, I’m calling on behalf of the Faculty of Biological Sciences, hailing from the University of Oxford. The Minister is proposing a three-year placement in Washington D.C. for--”’_

_‘Message deleted.’_

_‘Message 3: “Hey, Hannie. It’s me. Working a little late tonight…but, uh, I figured – if you’re still up by the time I get back – we could watch a movie. I mean, you’ll probably fall asleep ten minutes in like you always do, but it’s the thought that counts. Heck, I’ll even pick up some Chinese food on my way back. Anyways, uh… I love you, and… I’ll be back soon.”’_

_‘Message saved.’_

* * *

 

 

“You’re breaking up with me?”

Seungcheol glanced up at Jeonghan’s faltering expression, his heart lurching from his chest. _Keep it together, Seungcheol._

Jeonghan’s eyes flickered, his jaw stuttering open and closed. “I don't understand… I thought--”

“Don’t,” Seungcheol inhaled sharply, not letting himself meet the other’s gaze. One look was all it would take for him to change his mind. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“I don’t understand.” Jeonghan’s breathing faltered, his footsteps closing in. Fearful quivers raked through his beautiful voice, making Seungcheol’s heart grow heavy. “I thought… I thought you loved me.”

 _ ~~Of course I love you.~~_ “Stop. You’re making it worse.”

Jeonghan’s trembling hand grasped Seungcheol’s shoulder, his slender fingertips curling. “Worse? ‘Cheol, I gave up everything to be with you.”

_~~I know.~~ _ ~~~~

Seungcheol flinched as Jeonghan placed his hand upon his jaw – his touch so smooth and warm. Familiar. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me. Tell me that everything we had meant nothing.”

 _ ~~I can’t~~_. Seungcheol shook his head at the floor. His hand grasped Jeonghan’s wrist, pulling it away from his face. A sob escaped the younger’s lips. Seungcheol yearned to pull him into his arms and kiss away his tears. To tell him he meant everything to him. That he loved him more than anything, and he always would. That this was for his own good.

“Jeonghan,” his voice wavered. Maybe he didn’t notice. “I’m sorry. It’s over.”

 

 

* * *

 

**_Some time later_ **

**_Washington, D.C._ **

“The guys at NASA are starting to think you have a stem cell fetish,” Seokmin joked, dropping a carton of juice onto the edge of Jeonghan’s desk.

The older snickered behind his microscope. “Yeah, well, NASA believes anything and everything these days.” He pushed himself back in his desk chair, rummaging through the open drawer beside him before pulling out a battered clipboard. “Do me a favour – check this formula over. I’m not sending it to the University ‘less it’s right.”

Seokmin scooped the board up, humming to himself as he flipped through the pages. “Since when do you work this hard?”

“Since same-sex reproduction became relevant again.”

The other laughed heartily. “Always on trend, I see. Just make sure you stay away from churches.” Jeonghan scoffed, sliding back towards his microscope.

He’d been doing biological research for Georgetown University for about two years now – after NASA decided he was better off doing independent work than analysing extra terrestrial bullshit. (In all fairness, Jeonghan was about ninety-five percent sure extra terrestrial life forms _did_ exist. He just didn’t have the naïve capacity to believe NASA was smart enough to produce the evidence.)  Still, the space program funded the majority of his findings, resulting in Jeonghan having a rather renowned presence in the field of science.

“Oh yeah,” Seokmin said, tapping Jeonghan on the top of his head with a wad of letters. “Stopped by your apartment to pick up your mail. You’re welcome.”

Jeonghan grumbled reflexively as Seokmin dropped the letters into his lap before making his way back to his own desk. “You better not have gone through my stuff.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t… probably.”

Jeonghan took a moment to sift through his letters (mostly bills and spam, with the occasional copy-paste “congratulations on winning your Nobel Prize #soproud”, blah blah blah…). He tugged the trash can out from under his desk with the heel of his foot, ready to dispose of the lot before he noticed something peculiar at the bottom of the pile.

A silver-lined letter sealed by a golden wax stamp sat in his lap, his name written in shimmering calligraphy. “Seokmin, I’m going to Hogwarts,” he joked.

“WHAT?”

Jeonghan tossed the rest into the bin, kicking it back under his desk before opening the letter.

 

_‘Dear: Yoon Jeonghan,_

_We are thrilled to invite you to the much anticipated Wedding of_

_Kwon Soonyoung and Lee Jihoon.’_

 “Oh. My. God.”

* * *

**_Gangnam, Seoul_ **

_“Renowned biological theorist and Nobel Medicine Prize winner, Mister Jeonghan Yoon, has successfully produced the world’s first formula for genetic stem cell growth to aid embryotic health during and after pregnancy.”_

Seungcheol hummed, smiling to himself as he pulled into his driveway. _That’s my Hannie._

He turned off the radio, rubbing the back of his neck as a tired sigh slipped past his lips. Three hours of overtime had his bones practically rusting beneath his skin. Not much he could do about it now, of course. Just another day.

A grumble escaped him as his phone buzzed in the passenger seat. _What now?_ He scooped it up before glancing at the caller ID. _‘Jihoonie’._ Seungcheol quirked his brow curiously before answering the call.

“Hey, Jihoon, what’s--”

_“I’m about to lose my damn mind is what’s up.”_

Seungcheol choked. “What?”

" _I got twelve guests flying in from Hong Kong for the wedding tomorrow, and Soonyoung forgot to tell me about the cake pick-up, and my freezer’s broken, and the damn--”_

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa – slow down.” Seungcheol pulled himself out of his car, closing the door behind him. “Now’s not the time to be freaking out.”

_“I’m **not** freaking out. But even if I was, now would be the **perfect** time to freak the fuck out.”_

“Sure.”

" _Now I gotta’ deal with the in-laws because my empty-headed fiancé forgot to book the damn hotel.”_

A harsh bang rumbled down the phone-line and Seungcheol winced. Somewhere in the background, he caught the faint sound of Soonyoung’s voice; _“Jihoonie, what’d we say about denting the walls. I gotta’ get my deposit back!”_

_“Sorry…”_

Seungcheol snickered, fumbling for his door keys. “Hey, I dunno’ what to tell you, buddy. Weddings are tough.” He managed to get his door open by ramming his shoulder into it a couple of times. The hinges cranked open with a whine. “Listen, if there’s anything I can do to help--”

 _“Well now that you mention it,”_ Jihoon cut in. Seungcheol had to stifle his scoff, shaking the smirk off his expression. People only ever seemed to call him when they needed something done. Even Jihoon, who was undoubtedly one of Seungcheol’s closest friends, had been distancing himself ever since the proposal.

He dropped his car keys into the bowl by the door, taking a moment to admire the old picture of Jeonghan sitting on the sideboard. His eyes traced over his long blond hair and charismatic smile. A smile Seungcheol had taken so lovingly to memory. “Alright, I’m listening.”

_“The driver that was supposed to pick up Junhui and his plus one cancelled last minute. Think you could drop by this afternoon to get them?”_

Seungcheol grimaced. He hadn’t seen Wen Junhui since… well, since. Frankly, he wasn’t sure opening up old wounds would be doing any good. “Jeez, Jihoon… I don’t--”

_“I’ll pay you.”_

Seungcheol froze, his eyelids fluttering. The rent was overdue. The fridge was empty. He had about three days before the power was due to go out. _Shit_. A groan passed his lips. “Alright… fine. What time you want me there?” 

* * *

**_Incheon International Airport_ **

Seokmin gave a wide yawn as they stepped out of the immigration centre, scratching dully at the back of his skull. “Man, thirteen-hour flight really isn’t worth it.” Jeonghan snickered, slipping his sunglasses over his eyes as they made their way towards baggage collection. “So who’s wedding is it, and should I love ‘em or hate ‘em?”

“Kwon Soonyoung and Lee Jihoon, we love them both. Jihoon’s the shorter one and looks like he wants to die. Soonyoung’s the taller one and kind of looks like a sunflower. Don’t comment on Jihoon’s height if you value your life. Oh, and don’t hum, whistle, or sing in front of Soonyoung, because he’ll probably try to out-sing you and it will literally never end.”

Seokmin chuckled, his voice still heavy with drowsiness. “Adore them already.”

They had made it about ten feet towards their baggage conveyer belt when a loud, sharp, and all too familiar voice bellowed across the bustling airport. “Yoon _fucking_ Jeonghan?!”

Jeonghan spun upon his heels, removing his sunglasses. After his eyes adjusted to the light, they grew wide with involuntary shock. A tall, lean, and sleekly dressed young man carrying nothing but a small designer bag over his shoulder was hobbling towards him. “Jun? Jun!”

Junhui sped over, throwing his arms tightly around Jeonghan’s shoulders. They shared a mutual tightly wound squeal, before letting each other go, smiling helplessly at each other. “What the fuck, dude! You cut your hair!”

“So did you!” Jeonghan exclaimed. The last time they’d met face-to-face, both of them had sported long shoulder-length locks. Now, Junhui had himself a dark and handsome charcoal trim, whilst Jeonghan exhibited neatly cut brown hair styled to perfection.

“We look great,” Junhui said with a wink.

“Fuck yeah we do.”

He then noticed Seokmin standing beside Jeonghan with a nervously wide smile spread across his face. “And who might this be?”

Jeonghan blinked, turning his head to his colleague. “Oh, yeah, Junhui this is Seokmin. Seokmin, Junhui.”

The two exchanged short bows before Junhui nudged Jeonghan playfully with his elbow. “This your, uh,” he coughed indiscreetly, “new boyfriend?”

Jeonghan’s eyes shot wide open. “What? No! No, no, no, no. He’s just--”

“I’m his date to the wedding,” Seokmin pitched in with a pearly smile.

“That so?” Junhui narrowed his eyes with a mischievous grin. “Well, whatever you guys are, at least you’re hotter than the last guy Jeonghan brought to Korea.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Classy, Jun. Real classy.”

“JUN-AH!” a loud voice bellowed from somewhere within the crowd of people at the luggage belt.

Junhui turned and waved his arms frantically above his head. “Minghao! Over here!”

Jeonghan snickered as a slim-framed man with bleached blond hair barged his way through the collection crowd, hauling two large suitcases behind him with a scowl upon his face.

“Thanks for the help, jackass,” he snapped, rolling one of the cases towards Junhui.

“Guys, this is Minghao. Minghao, this is my friend Jeonghan, and his not-boyfriend, Seokmin.”

Minghao waved tiredly. “Forgive me if I forget your names.”

The group waited around for the rest of their bags before heading towards the arrival point. It gave Jeonghan a moment to catch up with Junhui for the first time in what felt like decades. Though it’d been a few years since the two had last spoken, Jun had barely changed. Everything from his humour to his sense of style was identical to how it’d been back when they were both College drop-outs. Jeonghan found it a great comfort to know that his friend was getting on okay – even after everything that had happened.

* * *

 

Seungcheol checked his watch with a deep sigh in his lungs. Junhui and Minghao’s plane landed almost two hours ago. They should be out by now. Was it reasonable to assume that they might have gotten lost? Surely not. Perhaps Junhui had caught one glimpse of him and turned around – repulsed to see him again. Seungcheol wouldn’t have blamed him, of course.

It was then that his phone buzzed away in his pocket. He fished it out, frowning deeply as he answered the call. “Jihoon, if it’s about the guys waiting at the airport, I’m literally just about to pick them--”

_“Change of plan – you need to bail. Right now.”_

Seungcheol knitted his brow in confusion. “What? Why? What’s happened?”

 _“Junhui just texted me, you gotta’ leave the airport **right** now.” _Jihoon sighed deeply down the line. _“God, this is my fucking fault. I forgot he was flying in today…”_

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Seungcheol huffed, trying to wrap his head around the situation. Jihoon had a terrible habit of always keeping him out of the loop. “Slow down, alright? Who’d you say was flying--”

A soft voice – one that Seungcheol had taken to memory, and had longed to hear for so many years ­– caught him by surprise. “...Seungcheol?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the late update, I've been on holiday ~

Seungcheol often dreamt of seeing him again. When the days grew long, and void of purpose, he thought of him. Of how they used to lay in bed for hours, comfortably tucked away in each other’s arms as they talked of everything and nothing.

Now, Jeonghan stood beside him, his beautiful brown eyes staring coldly. His glassy expression was as handsome as it was bewildered. Seungcheol felt the air grow thin, his heart hammering in his chest. “Jeonghan.”

After what felt like an eternity, Jeonghan finally said, “What are you doing here?” His voice was distant and impassive – almost loathing.

“I…” Seungcheol swallowed deeply, shoving his phone into his back pocket. “I’m picking up a friend.”

“Oh.”

The stiffness in their tones. The pallid space between them. Seungcheol had never felt awkward talking to Jeonghan before.

“You’re here for the wedding?” he asked. The younger nodded, his movements rigid. The way his eyes seemed to avoid him made Seungcheol’s heart ache in his chest. A quivering sigh left his throat, before he uttered, “It’s good to see you.”

_~~I missed you.~~ _

“Jeonghan!” A tall and unfamiliar stranger neared the two of them, pushing a cart loaded with two sets of luggage. He wore a smile of sweet demeanour, eyes beaming.

Seungcheol felt his mouth grow dry as the stranger wrapped his arm around Jeonghan’s shoulders, squeezing him affectionately.

“Minghao found the taxi stand. He offered to drop us off at our hotel.” Jeonghan’s eyes cut towards Seungcheol, before falling uncomfortably to the ground. The stranger seemed to notice, his grin momentarily faltering. “Who’s this?”

Jeonghan inhaled deeply, forcing a smile. “Seokmin, this is Seungcheol. He’s…” Jeonghan swallowed, “an old friend.”

Seungcheol bowed politely.

Seokmin raised his brow, hesitating for a moment. His smile returned. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Seokmin Lee, Jeonghan’s resident arm candy for the wedding.” Jeonghan scoffed, jabbing his elbow into the other’s side. Seokmin chuckled playfully, tussling at the other’s soft brown hair.

A sharp pain drove through Seungcheol’s chest, his ribs growing tight. He shouldn’t have been surprised. It’d been years since the break-up. Jeonghan was bound to have found someone new. Someone he loved who loved him in return. Who could care for him in his hours of need. Who wouldn’t weigh him down, as Seungcheol once had.

In spite of it, the sight tore him apart. Piece by piece.

“Let’s go,” Jeonghan whispered, refusing to look up from the ground. Seokmin nodded, leading him away by the shoulders.

“See you later,” Seokmin said, saluting towards Seungcheol before returning a hand to push the luggage cart.

Seungcheol watched as the two walked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. A weak smile tugged at his lips. Regardless of his heavy heart, and the bitterness plaguing his stomach – he was happy. This was a good thing. Jeonghan had moved on, and that was all he’d ever wanted.

* * *

Jeonghan tried to steady his breaths, his hands quivering in his lap. His heart hadn’t stopped racing since they’d left the airport. After years of trying to forget – years of pretending like Seungcheol had never exited – there he was. Worn and rugged as he’d always been. The same benevolent man he’d fallen so hopelessly in love with.

“Drink this,” Seokmin said, slipping a cold water bottle between Jeonghan’s fingertips. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Thanks,” Jeonghan mumbled, his voice crackly. Clearing his throat, he tried to regain his composure.

The two sat outside the hotel, leaning shoulder to shoulder upon a crooked bench. Silently, the sun began to set, painting the sky with a sweet tangerine glaze. “So,” Seokmin began, “this Seungcheol dude must be _quite_ the asshole. I mean – I haven’t seen you cry this much since the petri dish incident of 2017.”

Jeonghan gave a tired chuckle, wiping his cheek with the cuff of his sleeve. He remembered last year, when an intern had inanely shattered a glass dish containing six-months worth of research. At the time, it’d infuriated him beyond the root of sanity. Now, the two could laugh about it. “Yeah, well… I didn’t exactly get brutally dumped by a petri dish.”

“Ah… so he’s your ex. How come you never told me ‘bout him?”

He shrugged, his chest tightening. “I was trying to forget.” Of course, he was an idiot to believe that six years of love could be wiped away by a fourteen-hour flight to America. “Fuck…”

“Hey, don’t sweat it, Han.” Seokmin nudged him with his elbow, letting the other lean his weight against him. “Soon as this damn wedding’s over and done with, you can forget all about him.”

“But…” Jeonghan’s thoughts trailed, his heart stuttering. He never did find out why. Why Seungcheol had lied to him for so many years. Why he’d swept him off his feet just to drop him a few years later. Fabricated adoration and empty promises – the countless times he’d said _‘I love you, Jeonghan’_ – why? What was it all for?

* * *

“Are you seriously getting drunk the night before my wedding?” Jihoon huffed, signalling for the bartender to leave the two of them alone.

Seungcheol begrudgingly leant over the counter, resting his forehead against the surface. “I’m not drunk,” he slurred, his voice husk and grainy. He turned his head towards a disapproving Jihoon, body swaying in his barstool. “ _You’re_ drunk.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes, his jaw clenched tight enough to break bone. “ _God_ , you’re impossible. And you wonder why people don’t talk to you anymore. It’s ‘cuz you keep pulling shit like this.”

Seungcheol gave a guttural groan, hitting his forehead against the counter. “’Mh sorry…”

As irritated as he was, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel a bitter ounce of sympathy. Sighing through his chest, he muttered, “Guessing the meet with Jeonghan didn’t go so well.”

“Nah, it went fine,” he said, waving his hand. “He’s got short hair now. Did you know he’s got short hair now? It’s cute.” Seungcheol gave a hollow chuckle, thumping his head against the counter once more. “He also got a boyfriend.”

Jihoon frowned. “Boyfriend?” Though they didn’t talk all that often, Jeonghan had never mentioned a new partner in any of his emails. Perhaps it was a recent rendition.

Seungcheol hummed. “Yeah, this Seokmin guy or something…” He pushed himself off the counter, attempting to stand only to stumble into the barstool beside him. Jihoon hissed, catching one of Seungcheol’s arms to stop him from falling over.

“Fucking hell, ‘Cheol…” He pulled Seungcheol’s bicep over his shoulder, ignoring the older’s grumbling. With a sigh, he muttered, “Look, you can crash at my place tonight, alright? God… you’re such an idiot… you owe me big time, asshole.”

Seungcheol hummed, his body sagging as he was dragged out of the bar. As they made their way to the parking lot, Jihoon heard the older mumble beneath his breath, “Mh Sorry, Hannie…”

Jihoon frowned, his heart swelling. He was perhaps the only one who knew just how much Seungcheol still cared for Jeonghan. Even after years of trying to get Seungcheol to move on, nothing seemed to work. Though Jihoon didn’t care to admit it, he truly worried for him. He worried that his best friend would forever be in a state of heartbreak, unable to mend himself. And all he could do was watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short chapter, but update will be coming soon ^^


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter three! Hope you like it ^^

_“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Junhui spat, his eyes spiked with a venom that Seungcheol had never seen before. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words. The younger scoffed, shoving harshly at his shoulder. “Think this is funny? Think breaking someone’s heart is fucking **funny**?”_

_“No, I--”_

_“You’re a selfish bastard, you know that?” Junhui’s expression was riddled with hurt and disgust. “You know, I thought you were supposed to be the good guy.”_

_A pang of guilt plagued Seungcheol’s stomach. “It wasn’t meant to be like this.”_

_Junhui merely shook his head. “Why’d you do it? If you never loved him, then what was the fucking point? What, you wanted a piece of Jeonghan’s savings? Thought he’d pay your bills if you just played along?”_

_Seungcheol dug his nails into the palm of his hand. He couldn’t tell him. He doubted anyone would believe that he broke it off for Hannie’s sake. He didn’t just love Jeonghan – he adored him. Hence why he had to let him go._

_Jeonghan deserved more than a deadbeat delivery driver who barely had the funds to put food on the table, let alone take care of another human being. This wasn’t the life he wanted for the one person he loved in the world._

**_That_ ** _was why._

* * *

 

“Jeonghan, get up!” Seokmin called from the bathroom. “We’ll be late for the wedding!”

Jeonghan pulled his blanket over his head, groaning into his pillow. He had neither the energy nor decency to deal with anything at present. Seokmin, however, remained persistent.

“Hannie, don’t make me dump water on your head. You _know_ I’ll do it!”

“Fuck off…” he groaned, begrudgingly rolling out of bed. Rubbing his eyes with the ball of his wrist, he recounted the events of the day before. No matter how hard he tried to force the airport incident from his mind, he couldn’t seem to forget about it. About Seungcheol.

The man had barely changed – just as handsome as Jeonghan remembered. Maybe even more so. Of course, he’d not expected him to look so tired. So worn down. His dark circles and creased clothes were concerning to say the least. Had he not been sleeping? Trouble at work, perhaps. Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder if Seungcheol still slaved away at that stingy delivery job, working long hours for trivial pay. A dull ache pulsed through Jeonghan’s chest.

He shook the thought from his head. He didn’t have the headspace to worry about his ex. Besides, after all the pain Seungcheol had put him through, the man probably deserved it.

“Oh yeah,” Seokmin said, sticking his head out from the bathroom doorway. He was busying himself with doing up his tie, his hair and face already washed. “By the way – your buddy, Jihoon, rang the hotel a couple minutes ago. He wants you to come over to his place in about half an hour.”

Jeonghan squinted. “…Why? Can’t I just see him at the reception?”

Seokmin shrugged his shoulders. “He said it was important.”

Jeonghan scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t really be mad at the soon-to-be-wed, can I?”

“Nope,” Seokmin said with a chuckle. “Now hurry up and get dressed.”

Jeonghan reluctantly did as he was told, dragging his feet towards the wardrobe to retrieve his suit.

Just as he was about to put on his shirt, his phone buzzed erratically upon the bedside. It appeared to be an email from the University. A whine seeped from his throat. “Seokmin, why’s faculty contacting me?”

“I dunno’,” Seokmin muttered unhelpfully. “You break another petri dish?”

Jeonghan’s snicker turned into a whine as he scooped up his phone. The last thing he needed was his employers harassing him about petty matters. It happened more days than not. The message was labelled, _‘Important: Stem Cell Financing’._ Sighing softly, he opened the email.

_‘Dear Doctor Jeonghan Yoon of theoretical biology,_

_I’m happy to inform you that the stem cell formula you concocted for Georgetown University Research has been duly approved. Our benefactors have agreed to fund further research, and are looking to transfer you and your team to Columbia University for a six-year placement in Upper Manhattan.’_

Not long ago, Jeonghan would have been thrilled to hear his research was getting further funding. After all, his work was ultimately his life and livelihood. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, his passion for his career had diminished over the years. He woke up every morning with an inkling that he was wasting his life away on study labs and bio chemicals. He no longer went to work feeling as though he’d accomplished anything. The thought was sour, and quite disheartening. So much so that, even now, Jeonghan felt the need to ignore his own futility – hoping that perhaps, one day, his passion would return.

* * *

 

When Jeonghan arrived at Jihoon’s house, the last thing he’d expected to find was a heavily inebriated Seungcheol lying passed out on the sofa, reeking of Soju and other bitter substances.

Jeonghan had to rub his eyes to check he wasn’t seeing things. The man was out-cold, resting on his stomach with his head propped up on a pillow.

After the initial shock passed, the younger noticed the gentle rise and fall of Seungcheol’s shoulders. Seeing him in such a susceptible state was less intimidating than when they’d met at the airport. It reminded him of a better time, when the two of them would have woken up beside each other.

Back then, there had been no greater feeling than resting in Seungcheol’s warm, tender embrace. Their late night talks spent on softly spoken words of their future life together. Jeonghan still remembered how the older used to hold him close to his chest – close enough for him to hear his heart beating through his shirt.

He snapped his fingers, waiting for a reaction. Seungcheol failed to wake up – not even stirring. He wasn’t normally a heavy sleeper. _Must have gotten real shitfaced_ , was Jeonghan’s only thought.

He tried his best not to get lost in Seungcheol’s familiar features. His soft charcoal hair, tussled and unkempt. His warm, familiar scent – faintly distinguishable beneath the alcohol. An ache tugged at Jeonghan’s ribs as he remembered back when things had been perfect. Where the fuck did things go wrong?

“Jeonghan.”

Jihoon’s voice pulled him back to reality. Jeonghan turned to see him standing in the living room doorway, his hair a mess and his dress shirt half buttoned. “Hey,” he greeted, pulling a smile.

“Didn’t hear you arrive.”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan sighed, “the front door was unlocked. I let myself in.”

Jihoon clicked his tongue in irritation. “Must have forgotten to lock it after bringing _that_ thing home last night.” He jutted his chin towards Seungcheol. “Sorry, I meant to warn you he was here. Wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s nothing.” Jihoon shot him a look – one that seemed to see right through him. Nevertheless, he didn’t pry.

“Thanks for coming by,” Jihoon muttered. He glanced over at Seungcheol – scoffing beneath his breath. “Let’s talk in the kitchen.”

* * *

“You nervous?” Jeonghan asked, his hands nursing a hot cup of oolong tea.

“Nope,” Jihoon said as he joined him by the table, folding his arms tightly over his chest.

Jeonghan arched his eyebrow. “Really?” A smirk crept to the corner of his lip. “Not even a little?”

A strangled groan escaped Jihoon’s throat. “Maybe a little. Shut up.” Jeonghan snickered, shaking his head affectionately. Frankly, he’d missed spending time with Jihoon. After accepting his scholarship in America, he’d subsequently left behind a grandiose of irreplaceable friends. As wonderful as Seokmin and the rest of his research team were, they weren’t the same.

Jihoon briefly cleared his throat, tapping his foot rapidly against the floor. “So… about you and ‘Cheol.”

“I knew it,” Jeonghan muttered, somewhat disappointed. “Don’t tell me that’s why you called me here.”

“Well,” Jihoon shrugged his shoulders, “technically I called you here because I need someone to drive the automatic. And Seungcheol sure as fuck isn’t doing it with a hangover.” The older snickered, swallowing his anxiety. “But… we _should_ probably talk about it anyway.”

“Jihoonie, there’s nothing to talk about,” Jeonghan reassured. “Past is the past, let’s just… leave it there, okay?”

Jihoon’s brow tensed as he inhaled deeply. “Yeah, well…” Jeonghan could tell there was something prying at Jihoon’s mind. Of course, he had no right to press on the subject. “I know you guys have history to say the least. And, I understand if you don’t want to be around him. Heck, I don’t wanna’ be around him sometimes.”

Jeonghan smirked. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

The younger cocked his head, sighing through his nostrils. “He’s been in a slump for… well, a while.”

“Slump?” Jeonghan asked, his fingers beginning to twitch.

“Yeah…” Jihoon was silent for a moment. He took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair before continuing. “You know, when you left, I didn’t see him for months. No one did.”

Jeonghan frowned, unsure what to make of it. After all, Seungcheol was the one who ended the relationship. Surely, he ought to have been overjoyed to get rid of him.

“To be honest," Jihoon said, "I _still_ don’t see him all that much. He feels guilty, you know. About how things ended.”

“Good.” Jeonghan said, picking up his cup of tea before taking a generous gulp to settle his nerves. A surge of frustration coiled his thoughts. He shouldn’t be worried about Seungcheol. He didn’t deserve even the smallest speck of his attention. After all the pain he put him through, the man deserved to rot.

But, if that was the case, then why were Jeonghan’s hands still shaking? Why was his heart pounding so loudly in his chest?

“Han,” Jihoon said, calm and collected. “It’s okay.”

Jeonghan wasn’t entirely certain on what Jihoon meant by that. What was okay? The fact that he hated Seungcheol’s guts, or the fact that he hated himself for caring about him? Nevertheless, he nodded.

“I told Soonyoung to put you guys on different tables,” Jihoon said. “There should be enough space for you and your boyfriend to sit together after the ceremony.”

Jeonghan’s lashes fluttered. “Boyfriend?”

“Seungcheol mentioned. Seokmin, right?”

He raised his brow. “Oh, no, Seokmin isn’t--”

The sound of the front door slamming shut cut him off, shaking the walls of the house. “Jihoon-ah!” a familiar voice yelled from down the hall, accompanied by a series of hurried steps.

Jeonghan shouldn’t have been so surprised to see Kim Mingyu burst into the kitchen, almost tripping over the paper basket by the doorway in his hurry. He was dressed in a fine silk suit, a sheen of sweat smearing his brow. “Jihoon-ah, we’re running late, dude!” he panted out, his eyes suddenly widening when he registered Jeonghan’s presence. “Jeonghan!”

Jeonghan gave a half-hearted salute and a friendly smile.

“It’s good to see you, hyung!” he said brightly, still trying to catch his breath. He dropped his brow for a moment. “Also, why’s Seungcheol here?”

Jihoon scoffed. “Idiot was supposed to drive me to the venue, but he went and got drunk last night.”

Mingyu grumbled lowly. “You’re kidding me.”

“I was gonna’ get Jeonghan to drive me the automatic.”

Mingyu scratched the back of his skull, pursing his lips. “Who’s gonna’ deal with ‘Cheol, then? I mean, he can’t _not_ come to the wedding.”

“You can deal with him,” Jihoon said.

Mingyu’s eyes bulged. “What? No. No, no, no, you know I’m not good with drunk people, Jihoon.”

“He’s not drunk, he’s hung over.”

“ _Still!_ ”

As the two continued to bicker, Jeonghan glanced through the doorway towards the living room. Despite the commotion, Seungcheol still hadn’t stirred from his slumber. Jeonghan pulled his lip between his teeth. He supposed he would have to talk to him eventually. After all, what good did it do to live in avoidance of each other. Perhaps this was his opportunity to get it over and done with.

There was no obligation for him to forgive Seungcheol, but for the sake of decency – and for the sake of their friends – perhaps he could try to be civil.

“I can deal with him,” Jeonghan said, turning towards the two.

Jihoon and Mingyu both grew silent, their squabbling turning to stiff disbelief. Jihoon swallowed. “You don’t have to do that, Han.”

“Y-yeah,” Mingyu said beneath a nervous chuckle. “It’s fine, really, I can drive the automatic. I don’t want to put you through--”

“Guys,” Jeonghan said, dull and unenthused. “Please, don’t make this such a big deal.”

Avoiding Seungcheol was practically admitting to still caring about him. There was no way he was about to give _him_ the satisfaction. Besides, if Jeonghan wanted to prove to himself that he truly was over it, he had to do this.

“… If you’re sure, hyung,” Jihoon said, before checking his wristwatch. He hissed grimly. “Fuck… can’t believe I’m late to my own goddamn wedding.”

“You two better get a move on,” Jeonghan said. “I’ll see you both later.”

Jihoon nodded, dragging Mingyu out of the room by his shoulder before the younger even had a chance to react.

* * *

 

Seungcheol woke with a throbbing headache, his brain swelling against his skull. As he regained consciousness, he felt the earth begin to swirl in vicious spirals. _No. More. Drinking_. He peeled his dry eyes open, wincing as the light flooding the windowsill pierced straight through his vision, stabbing into his head. Pain and nausea worsened with every breath.

He noticed he wasn’t at his own home, which wasn’t entirely a bad thing. It took him a moment more to realise he was in Jihoon’s house. Why… was he in Jihoon’s house? Then it hit him. The wedding was today.

_Fuck._

He tried to push himself up, groaning as his head began to spin. Out of all his weekly fuck-ups, this one really took the cake. He managed to get himself up into a sitting position on the sofa, rubbing his temples with his thumb and index finger.

A cup of warm, sweet scented tea sat upon the coffee table, just beside a tall glass of water. The honey-lemon flavour infused the air, reminding Seungcheol of something rather pleasant. Back when things were still okay, Jeonghan used to make him honey-lemon tea whenever he was ill. Though he’d never been fond of lemon, Jeonghan always managed to make it taste wonderful.

It was only then that he spotted the younger, sitting on the sofa-chair opposite him with his arms crossed. Jeonghan wasn’t looking at him – instead, his eyes were fixed on the window.

“Jeonghan?” For a moment, Seungcheol wondered if perhaps he was still drunk. Perhaps he was just imagining he was here. It wasn’t a rare occurrence. After all, his drunken daydreams tended to get rather vivid. It was only when the other began to speak that he was finally brought to his senses.

“You took your time,” Jeonghan muttered. “Jihoon and Mingyu set off almost an hour ago.”

Dazed, the only response Seungcheol was able to give was a tired huff. He glanced down at the cup of honey-lemon tea, picking it up and taking a sip. It tasted exactly the same as it had done the last time Jeonghan made it for him. The scent alone soothed him.

He noticed Jeonghan looking at him, but the moment Seungcheol turned his eyes towards him, the younger shifted his gaze away. It didn’t surprise him, of course. He didn’t even merit being in Jeonghan’s presence.

Yet, here he was.

“We’re late,” Jeonghan said, checking the time on his phone. “If we leave in the next twenty minutes, we might be able to get there before the ceremony--”

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol said, the words falling from his mouth before he could stop himself.

Jeonghan blinked at him, falling silent for a moment. “What?”

“I…” He swallowed. “I said I was sorry.” Jeonghan opened his mouth to speak, but Seungcheol beat him to it. “I know it doesn’t mean anything. I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I just… I wanted you to know.”

Jeonghan’s eyes fell to the ground, a slight quiver in his jaw. “Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

Seungcheol stuttered. Of course he knew. He would never forgive himself for hurting Jeonghan, nor did he expect forgiveness from anyone else. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. If Jeonghan knew that he still loved him, it could ruin everything.

“For… you know…” Seungcheol’s voice trailed, his thoughts still hazed by the alcohol in his bloodstream.

“You know?” Jeonghan said, bitter and sceptical. He snickered coldly. “Wow. Break my fucking heart, and all you gotta’ say is _‘you know’_?”

“Jeonghan…”

The younger closed his eyes, shaking his head. He took a deep breath before finally meeting Seungcheol’s gaze. Cold, and stale. “Look, whatever happened… whatever bullshit was between us, it’s in the past. I’m over it. We can’t just go round ignoring each other. From now on, we’re mutuals.”

Seungcheol furrowed his brow. “Mutuals?”

The younger nodded. “Acquaintances. Borderline strangers. You don’t know me; I don’t know you.” He pulled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s what you always wanted, right?”

The older was lost for words. Strangers? _Is_ that what he wanted?

No… of course it wasn’t. But what other choice did he have? Jeonghan had moved on, and it was about high time he did the same. Clenching his fists, he mumbled, “Yeah…”

"Good," Jeonghan said, pulling a grin that almost seemed genuine. He stood up from his seat. "Now, let's head on down to the venue before Jihoon  _actually_ loses his mind."

* * *

_“My name’s Seungcheol – but you can call me, anytime.”_

_Jeonghan snickered, pulling his book bag out of his locker. “Where’d you get that line, on the back of a cereal box?”_

_“Nope,” the handsome upper-year student said with a charming grin. “Page three on one of my mom’s Cosmo magazines.”_

_Jeonghan laughed into the back of his hand. “No kidding.”_

_“And what might your name be?” Seungcheol asked, his warm eyes smiling._

_He smirked. “It’s Jeonghan.”_

_Seungcheol cocked his brow. “Are you that new ad. bio transfer?”_

_“That would be me, yes.”_

_The older whistled playfully. “Beauty **and** brains. How unfair.”_

_Jeonghan’s skin began to warm, unable to take his eyes off him. He snickered softly. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”_

_Seungcheol shrugged his shoulders, gingerly scratching the back of his head. “Only when I’m trying to appeal to someone who’s way out of my league. Hence…” He gestured towards Jeonghan with a sweet half-smile. The younger folded his arms, examining the surprisingly delectable student. This could either go two ways. Either, 1. He'd just found the love of his life, or 2. This dude was about to play him for a fool. “So, what do you say to a little basketball after school?”_

_Jeonghan hummed, drumming his fingertips against his elbow. “I’ll have to think about that.”_

_Seungcheol pressed his back against the row of lockers, melodramatically placing his hand over his heart. “Ah, the bitter taste of rejection.”_

_Jeonghan chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “I didn’t say no, I said I’ll think about it.”_

_"Well, you take your sweet time thinking about it," Seungcheol said, rather teasingly. Jeonghan cocked his brow as the older moved closer towards him, his warm smile strangely captivating. "I'll wait."_

_Jeonghan pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, biting back a grin. "I'm sure you will."_

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4!! Hope you enjoy ^^

_“My mom is **actually** going to skin you alive,” Jeonghan whispered as he opened his bedroom window._

_Seungcheol gave a soft pout, propping his elbows up against the windowsill. “Aw man, I kinda’ liked having skin.”_

_Jeonghan snickered beneath his breath, helping to pull Seungcheol up into his bedroom. Once the older’s feet had landed firmly on the carpet, Jeonghan wasted no time in placing a kiss to his soft, gentle lips. The touch was familiar, and filled with compassion. Seungcheol seemed to melt, his warm hands pulling Jeonghan as close to him as possible._

_When they broke apart, Seungcheol didn’t let go. Instead, he wrapped his arms around the younger, pulling him into a comforting embrace. “I missed you,” he said._

_Jeonghan smirked as another kiss was placed upon his forehead. “It’s only been a week.”_

_“I know…” Seungcheol’s arms gave Jeonghan a gentle squeeze – as if he feared the younger might disappear. “I just miss seeing you everyday.”_

_Jeonghan hummed, resting his chin on the older’s shoulder. He took in the faint but familiar scent of Seungcheol’s shirt, enjoying the feeling the older’s chest pressed to his own. Seungcheol’s body was always so warm. “Yeah, I missed you too.”_

_T_ _he two had started dating almost a year ago, resulting in a **slight** decline in Jeonghan’s grades. (Heck, he couldn’t help it if spending time with Seungcheol felt more important than 24/7 study sessions). After scoring an 88 on his bio-chem paper, his mother was livid to say the least. The woman had pulled him out of school within minutes, forcing him into home-schooling so she could watch over his studies._

_Of course, even that wouldn’t stop the two of them from being together._

_“So,” Seungcheol said, letting Jeonghan out of his grasp while still keeping his hands on the younger’s waist. “Your parents still at your neck?”_

_"Aren’t they always?” Jeonghan said with a smirk. “Don’t worry too much about it, though. I’ll always have time for you.”_

_Seungcheol’s expression softened, a perfect smile gracing his lips. “God, what did I do to deserve you?”_

_Jeonghan hummed, pulling him in for another kiss. When their lips met, a joy as pure as summer flooded Jeonghan’s body. Had he never known true happiness before meeting Seungcheol?_

_“Hannie,” the older whispered as they broke apart, resting their foreheads against one another’s. Seungcheol tenderly brushed his thumb over Jeonghan’s cheek, before he said, “I love you.”_

_Jeonghan felt his skin grow warm, his heart stuttering in his chest. “You do?”_

_"More than I ever thought I could.” Seungcheol’s eyes kept him in a compassionate gaze, full of love and adoration. “Soon as we graduate, I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. We can get out of this god-awful city, buy a place of our own. Just you and me.”_

_Jeonghan’s heart swelled with affection. “… I love you too, ‘Cheol.”_

* * *

 

**_Message from Junnie:_ **

_Junnie: Han, Jihoon just told me ur with Douchebag_

_Junnie: If you need me, call me and I’ll beat his ass >:(_

_Hannie: Relax, it’s under control -_-_

_Hannie: We’re on the bus >.> I’ll message you when I get there_

_Junnie: The BUS??_

_Junnie: Why you taking the fucking BUS???_

_Hannie: Seungcheol’s not sober enough to drive_

_Hannie: And I don’t have a car in Seoul :(_

_Junnie: FFS_

_Junnie: I’m actually gonna kill him._

Jeonghan sighed through his nostrils, shoving his phone down into his pocket. Seungcheol sat beside him, staring wanly out of the window. Still another three more stops until they arrived at the venue.

The silence brewing between them was utterly humiliating.

Of course, he shouldn’t have expected otherwise. Their relationship, by definition, was awkward and discomforting. Jeonghan checked his watch for what could only be the seventh time. Ultimately, his only option was to ride it out until they went their separate ways. Time, however, was not on their side.

“You seem like you’re doing well for yourself,” Seungcheol said, turning his head towards him – though refraining from eye-contact (thank fuck). Jeonghan caught the faintest of smiles on the older’s lips. “What with your research and everything.”

“You heard about that, huh?” Jeonghan mumbled half-heartedly.

“Yeah. Well, they talked about you on the radio the other day. Always knew you’d make it big-time.”

A sharp pang pierced through his chest. “Yeah.” He spared another glance towards Seungcheol – who had his tired, unsteady gaze fixed to the floor. The man was probably still suffering from that hangover of his. “What about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“What’ve you been up to these past few years?” Jeonghan asked, unable to tame his curiosity.

Seungcheol shrugged his broad shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing really. Same job, same place.” He nudged the younger with his elbow. “It’s what happens when you don’t get a degree, Han.”

Jeonghan frowned, casting his mind back to when they had both finished school. Seungcheol’s family wasn’t as well-off as his own. The man hadn’t even bothered applying for University; knowing he couldn’t afford it. Instead, ‘Cheol had started working three jobs – all crassly paid, but just enough for him to rent an apartment.

A year later, when Jeonghan finally started university, the first thing he did was move in with his boyfriend. Splitting the rent meant Seungcheol could finally quit two of his jobs, working as a full-time delivery guy.

Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder – now that Seungcheol was on his own, how was he even managing to cope?

“You know,” the older said, “when I heard you were doing so good, I… I felt really proud. I mean, regardless of the past, I do still… care. And I think it’s awesome, what you’re doing.”

Jeonghan swallowed, turning his head away. “Thanks.” Guilt poisoned the younger’s bloodstream. Why did he suddenly feel so shitty? After all, _none_ of this was his fault. Yet, his heart had grown so unbearably heavy. “You know – if you need money, for food, or rent, or -- you know, whatever…”

Seungcheol snickered, though his voice was drawn with dejection. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you, Jeonghan.” The younger looked towards him, wanting to speak yet not having anything to say. Seungcheol gave a low chuckle. “You always were terrible with spending money.”

Jeonghan cocked his brow. “What?”

“Don’t think I don’t remember you spending half of your allowance on clothes,” Seungcheol said, his tone growing playful.

The younger scoffed. “That was in High School.”

Seungcheol glanced down at Jeonghan’s leather set of Louis Vuitton shoes – polished and shined to perfection. “Yup, and I’m sure _those_ were a bargain, weren’t they?”

Jeonghan flushed, crossing his arms. “Hey, these are… old.”

“Oh really?” Seungcheol teased. “How much?”

“I… don’t remember,” he lied. Of course he fucking remembered. Six-hundred US dollars, to be exact. The older eyed him sceptically. With a defeated grumble, the younger muttered, “Okay fine, so I’m terrible with money. Sue me.”

Seungcheol chuckled, his laughter soothingly bright. A familiar warmth blossomed in Jeonghan’s chest. As rough as Seungcheol looked, his smile was as handsome as it always had been. “Well, ‘least you can afford to be terrible with money.”

“True,” Jeonghan said, nodding to himself. “Pays to be smart.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Seungcheol said playfully, though something told Jeonghan that he was only half joking.

“You _are_ smart,” he mumbled. “It’s not exactly your fault you couldn’t go to University. Heck, I’m sure if you did, you’d be rich by now.”

Seungcheol laughed. “Well, degrees don’t get you everything. And money _isn’t_ everything. There are things out there that’re way more valuable.”

“Like what?”

“Love,” he said. “Happiness.”

Jeonghan swallowed down the discomfort creeping up his throat. “Yikes. Cheesy.”

“Aren’t I always?” Seungcheol said, smiling softly. To Jeonghan’s own surprise, he actually smiled back. “Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?”

The older’s expression grew content, tinged with an ounce of sadness. “For talking to me, I guess. I know I don’t deserve it. But… I’m thankful for the privilege.”

Jeonghan pulled his lip between his teeth, hesitating before he said, “Don’t mention it.”

The rest of the journey was spent in silence, yet somehow, the prickly unease had melted away completely. What was left was a quiet, and almost soothing mutual company. _Maybe this would be okay_ , Jeonghan thought to himself.

* * *

 

“ _You_ are _late_!” Junhui hissed as Jeonghan approached him by the front door. He grabbed the older by his shoulders, helping him fix the fringe of his hair. “Everyone’s already inside, you dingus.”

Jeonghan snickered, his smile half apologetic, half amused. “It’s fine, Jun. I’m here, aren’t I?”

Junhui’s eyes cut towards Seungcheol, who trailed quietly behind with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Junhui gave a bitter scoff. “Who comes to a wedding dressed like that?”

Jeonghan cocked a disapproving brow. _“Jun,_ play nice. He didn’t have time to go back to change.”

“Yeah, and who’s fault was that?”

Seungcheol cleared his throat. “Good to see you too, buddy.”

Junhui shot him a cold, glassy glower before tugging Jeonghan away by the elbow. “Come on. Seokmin’s waiting for you inside,” he muttered.

Jeonghan vaguely recalled hearing Seungcheol murmur, “Guess I'll see you later,” beneath his breath before Junhui hauled him away, practically yanking his shoulder out of its socket.

As they entered the alabaster hallway, lined with silver podiums and sweetly scented cherry blossoms, Jeonghan whispered, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” Junhui said, feigning innocence. “I was just looking out for my hyung.”

Jeonghan sneered, shaking his head. Junhui had a habit of letting his thorny opinions on others sour his personality. Most people thought him to be a bitter creature full of loathing (which Jeonghan wasn’t exactly denying), but they rarely ever saw him for the caring and selfless companion he truly was.

Subconsciously, Jeonghan turned his head over his shoulder. Amidst the wandering crowds of people flooding through the building, Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it was for the best.

They reached a set of open doors, where a cluster of guests had formed a line – waiting to be seated inside the ceremony hall. Jeonghan caught sight of Seokmin, standing with his back rested against the wall while he pretended to check his phone.

“Sup, loser,” Jeonghan said as he approached him.

Seokmin turned his head up, his expression growing bright as a smile tugged his lips. “Jeonghan! You made it.”

Junhui mumbled, “He’d have been here earlier if it wasn’t for--”

“ _Not_ relevant, Jun,” Jeonghan interjected, earning an eye-roll from the younger. “Where’s Minghao, anyways? Shouldn’t you go find him?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Junhui scoffed. “Trying to get rid of me, as usual. Fine, I’ll let you guys have some alone time.” He shot the two of them a playful wink before quietly slipping away in the crowds.

Seokmin snickered, his brow turning up. “What was that about?”

Jeonghan waved his hand dismissively. “Seems like he’s under the impression that you and I are a thing.”

The younger blinked with a flicker of surprise. “A _thing_?”

“Yeah. He’s also not the only one.” Jeonghan smirked, lowering his voice. “Jihoon actually referred to you as my boyfriend this morning.”

A giddy chuckle left Seokmin’s lips. “Aww, I ship it.”

Jeonghan gave him a hard smack on the shoulder, rolling his eyes. “In your dreams, asshole.” The younger’s laughter only grew, teasing a soft smile to his lips. “Thanks again for coming.”

Seokmin gave a knowing grin, his eyes soft and sincere. “Don’t mention it.”

* * *

 

Seungcheol didn’t smoke. Or rather, he knew he shouldn’t.

It was somewhat of a shitty habit he’d managed to pick up during the early stages of their breakup. He knew it was pitiful, of course. With every cutback came another set of worries. With every worry came a craving for relief. In Seungcheol’s case, it was nicotine.  

He’d retreated to a bathroom near the back of the ceremony hall, locking himself in one of the two wooden stalls. He took a moment to breathe, pressing his forehead to the door. _God, you’re so pathetic, Seungcheol,_ he thought as he fished out a carton of menthol cigarettes from his coat. Thankfully, he hadn’t lost them in last night’s drunken scuffle.

Seungcheol never used to need nicotine for relief. Back then, one kiss from Jeonghan was all it took for him to feel like he could take on the world. Every doubt he’d ever had in himself was eradicated by Jeonghan’s smile. His laughter. The thought of making him happy. Of simply being with him, _for him_.

Jeonghan was what kept him going.

Seungcheol fumbled for his lighter, realising its usual place in his pocket was empty. “ _Fuck._ ”

A gentle tap from the neighbouring stall, followed by a monotone, “Looking for this?”

Seungcheol sighed, recognising the voice. “Jihoon… hey, there.”

“Knew you’d be in here,” the younger said from the booth beside his. “What’s with you and bathroom smoking, huh? What is this, the 90s?”

“Very funny,” Seungcheol muttered, leaning his back against the wall in defeat. “Where’d you find my lighter?”

“Pinched it off you yesterday. Figured you wouldn’t notice until you actually wanted a light.” Jihoon went silent for a moment, before muttering something along the lines of, “You’re a fuckin’ idiot, ‘Cheol.”

Seungcheol merely snickered – dejected, defeated, and rather fucked overall. “The hell you doing in here anyway? Keeping the toilets company?”

Jihoon scoffed. “Dickhead.” The two shared a short laugh together, both somewhat grateful to be separated from the crowd brewing just beyond the bathroom doors. Another silence, before the younger said, “I’ll tell if you do.”

Seungcheol frowned. “What d’you mean?”

“What’s driven you in here this time?”

He opened his mouth, but no words left. It’d been a while since he’d actually talked coherently about how he felt. Even with Jihoon. The younger simply sighed. “Like old times, right? You think I forgot about passing Jeonghan your shitty little love letters in High School?”

The older smiled despondently – out of habit. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“I already think you’re stupid. Now spit it out. Like I said… I’ll talk if you talk.”

Seungcheol gathered his thoughts, his chest growing tight. “I’m just… finding it real hard to be around Jeonghan is all. This whole situation’s a little… much. I mean, he doesn’t seem to hate me. Which is good, but… I don’t know, It’s almost like…” Seungcheol felt the air grow thin in his lungs. “…like every time I see him, I wanna' undo everything. Make things back to the way they were. Because…”

Seungcheol stopped himself from saying it. _~~Because I love him~~_. 

_~~I miss him~~ _ _._

_~~I need him~~ _ _._

He rubbed his face with the palm of his hand, groaning at his own idiocy. It’s been years. Surely it shouldn’t still hurt this badly?

Jihoon’s hand appeared at the bottom of the stall divider, sliding the tacky plastic lighter to his side of the wall. Seungcheol looked down in surprise. “Not me encouraging you,” Jihoon disclaimed, “but you sound like you need it.”

The older smirked. “Love you, buddy.” He scooped up the lighter, placing a cigarette between his lips in the process. “You still gotta’ tell me why _you’re_ in here having a mental breakdown.”

Jihoon gave a nervous snicker. “Yeah, well, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t feel so good.”

“Naturally,” Seungcheol stated, snapping his lighter a couple times before igniting the end of his cigarette.

“No, but, I’m _actually_ going to be sick.”

“Drama queen,” Seungcheol teased. This wasn't the first time he'd had this particular conversation with Jihoon. To some extent, they both put up with each other. “And you think I got problems.”

“You _do_ got problems.”

The older hummed, taking a long drag, exhaling sharply, before saying, “Simple question: Do you love your fiancé?”

“What kind of question is--”

“I’m asking for your sake, buddy.” Seungcheol kept his voice low and calm – trying to appease whatever storm might be brewing inside Jihoon’s head. Thankfully, the nicotine was already starting to kick in. “ _Do_ you love your fiancé?”

“Well… yeah, of course.”

“Then what reason do you have to be worried?”

Jihoon scoffed, as if the answer was ever so obvious. Though, his stutters proved otherwise. “I don’t – I just--”

“Now who’s the idiot?” Seungcheol joked. Jihoon sighed in defeat, the sound of his head thumping against the wall seeming to echo through the bathroom. The older smiled affectionately. “I know you’re nervous, buddy. That’s okay. You’re probably thinking… ‘what if something goes wrong?’ ‘What if we’re not right for each other?’ ‘What if things _don’t_ turn out the way we planned?’ All I can tell you is; you’ll never know until you try. So long as you two love each other, nothing else really matters.”

Jihoon stayed deftly silent for a while, before he inhaled sharply, exhaling through his nose. “Fuck it. Let’s do this shit.”

Seungcheol smiled, a hint of pride warming his heart. “Let’s go get you married, my friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I got tired near the end? haha, I'm sleepy ~
> 
> Thanks for reading, updates coming soon :D


End file.
